Warnings: Yanderes and all that comes with them-
A/N: Another gift for my king- Sorry it's late- @sevendeadlymorons
Summary: Relationship headcanons for soft yandere demon Shigaraki, the reader is human.
How It Started
For starters, Shigaraki was not born a demon. He was an angel that fell from the heavens because he disobeyed god. He fell in love, with a mortal no less.
That mortal was you.
Ironically he fell somewhat near your home, slamming into the ground as his wings turned from a pure blinding white to a silvery black.
You stumbled upon him while walking your dog (or cat) and quickly brought him to your home.
When he awakens to you above him, he's sure he's dreaming.
That is until he feels the pain in his wings, and sees the worry on your gorgeous features.
In the next coming weeks as he gains his strength back, he explains his story, fearing your rejection, only to be met with a hug and an offer to try this, slowly of course.
To say he's overjoyed is an understatement.
He's extremely fascinated by everything, only have ever being able to observe from afar before he fell.
Fascinated with technology, human customs, and romance.
Never had physical affection or anything like it as an angel.
The first time you touch him he melts into a pile of goo, his whole body shuddering and leaning into your touch.
Safe to say after that he wants to be touching you all the time-
Will respect your wishes if you don't want to be touched, but if you have no problem with it he'll be holding your hand, giving you kisses, and hugging you all the damn time.
General Headcanons
He is baby
Like stated earlier, touch starved. So fucking touch starved.
After a few months nubs of black start sprouting from his temples, slowly growing into large curled horns.
Where you go he's sure to follow, no matter where.
He even stays near the bathroom if you don't feel comfortable with him following.
CLINGY. VERY CLINGY.
If you share a bed you'll wake up in a gentle but extremely strong hug from behind, and no, unless you wake him up you are not getting out of his hold.
Hugs you from behind all the time every day, he likes holding you.
Loves learning recipes for foods.
Obsessed with baking you sweet treats.
The second he learns about breakfast in bed it becomes something he does at least once a month.
Somehow is a baking god
Will make you crepes, cakes, cinnamon roles, eclairs, cookies, cheesecake, etc.
Loves going out on the town with you, everyone just thinks he's in a really good cosplay or something.
Doesn't get jealous really easily but is extremely protective.
Someone looks at you wrong and he's glaring daggers at them until they're out of his sight.
RIP to anyone who has or attempts to hurt you, their bodies are brutalized beyond recognition, if they're ever found.
You're his world, and he'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.
you and him just singing your hearts out when replay by iyaz comes on and you can’t help but snap some cute pictures and videos of him dancing around in the driver’s seat. though thirty minutes later you find yourself listening intently to how he thinks aliens are very much real and how the government is covering it up. he always asks (demands) for you to crawl into his lap when he gets rlly sleep and literally whines if you say no :( and when he’s in this sleepy state don’t be surprised when he’s says ‘m gonna marry you one day, baby. it’s me ‘n you forever.
✧ warnings: praise and degradation (for Tomura), hand jobs, vaginal fingering, implied inexperienced Tomura, alcohol, dnd!au, fantasy!au, vague references to subspace/drop (for Tomura), he's also kind of a brat, references to sex, reader is afab and has tits, but no gendered terms for them, 18+ MDNI
✧ summary: In which Tomura learns both to let go and hold on.
✧ a/n: My contribution for the Rated L for Lewd collab! I didn't get to spend as much time with this piece as I would have liked, so there is a bit less world building and less editing than usual, but hopefully still a good read. It is very much dnd inspired fantasy with the League as their own little party and Tomura as their warlock leader. Go check out all the other creators works as well!
“Can I get you another?”
Tomura glanced up from the forest of slash marks against the mahogany bar top he’d been navigating mindlessly. The wooden mug still clutched in his four-fingered fist was empty now—had been maybe for sometime, who knew how long his mind had wandered—and you were pointing loosely at it as you made your rounds, pitcher of ale resting on your hip.
“Hm, ah yeah,” he mumbled, sitting up straighter on his stool and relinquishing the cup in favor of digging out another bronze coin from the pouch on his belt. “Thanks.”
“That last job went well I see,” you hummed, pale liquid sloshing over the rim of the pitcher and running down your wrist.
Tomura wet his lips and watched each drop race below the loose sleeves of your top.
“I suppose so.”
You were staring pointedly at the rowdy, patchwork group of patrons just over his shoulder and grinning wryly. When he followed your gaze, Tomura found that Twice and Toga had made themselves at home atop one of the sturdy oak tables and were pounding out a dance along to the tavern bard’s upbeat accompaniment.
Magne and Spinner were calling for another round, happily counting over the sacks of gold they’d received—payment for chasing off those goblin raiding parties a few towns over. Meanwhile Dabi had disappeared into one of the many rooms upstairs almost immediately upon arrival, trailing one of the blond city guards as they stumbled up the steps. Compress was deeply engaged in a conversation with your business partner, not so subtly placing his skilled fingers higher and higher on the man’s thigh while the other hand twirled through his deep purple, incorporeal hair.
“You suppose?” your voice was incredulous to say the least, and immediately drew Tomura away from the celebratory antics of his party. “They’ve been making a mess of my inn for half the night, I’d hope you would have a decent reason for chasing off all my other patrons.”
“If you consider scaring the shit out of some backwoods goblins to be a success,” he sighed and took a long drink from the mug you handed him.
The ale here was always sweeter, and settled warm in his gut. He chose to blame the heat in his cheeks on the alcohol and not the way your breasts spilled over the leather bindings that held them in place.
“Well, lucky for you, your dragonborn friend tips well,” you said. “So long as he keeps lining my pockets, I can’t say I mind much. Though a man like that, carrying so many blades, I have to wonder what he’s compensating for.”
You laughed then, hearty and from deep in your chest as Spinner lobbed a gold piece from the hearth, narrowly missing your head and landing directly into the pitcher you carried.
“That enough for you, wench!?” Spinner called fondly across the bar while Magne joined you in chuckling at his expense.
Tomura hunched in on himself, ducking under the hood of his cloak as his face inevitably grew redder when faced with the spotlight of your beaming. Fortunately for him, the party had rarely questioned why he chose to drag them here—a tavern too often crawling with city guards or counselors—to sit at a bar and sip ale he wouldn’t touch anywhere else and refuse to even join in a bit on the merriment of a job well done.
They were too caught up in their own festivities, quickly branching out and finding companions for the night or passing out in a pile together by the dying fire.
Unfortunately for Tomura, he questioned his motives plenty on his own, and had come out the other side of his self-imposed interrogation all too aware of what—or more appropriately, who—kept him coming back.
He couldn’t quite pinpoint why though. Tomura had never been really interested in the types of nightly activities the others often got up too. But sometimes, like now, you would smile and refill his cup or poke and prod until he begrudgingly engaged in one sided conversation.
and now on lonely, cold nights when the party couldn’t find an inn with room to spare, it was your voice, your clever eyes and hands that his exhaustion plagued mind supplied to lull him to sleep against the dirt.
Though apparently, his strange, silent affinity had not gone as unnoticed as he’d initially hoped.
“There are a thousand taverns, inns, bars, what have you in Waterdeep,” you murmured as Spinner settled himself and Compress slipped behind the bar with your partner and followed him through the to the private rooms. “What keeps a man like you coming back here?”
“What kind of man am I, then?” he scoffed, turning resolutely away from you as you leaned your chest on the countertop and poured yourself a drink.
“I don’t know,” you shrugged honestly, sipping from your cup again and peering at him under his hood. “Not to say I don’t take pride in my business, but I just never thought this place was interesting enough to warrant its own mysterious stranger.”
It isn’t, he wants to say. It’s got the same aged wood and worn stone fireplace as every other tavern in the city. The ale is the same, no matter what Tomura’s tongue tries to tell him, and the smell of body heat and leather armor are still thick in the air.
He’d never be able to pick it out from the hundreds of others his party has occupied over the years.
But there’s never been another like you. Never another who has caught his eyes and lived to tell the tale much less smile in his face and force bowls of stew and fresh bread between his lips. Never anyone who made him want to stick around in this rotting pit of royalty and pompous fisted riches.
And in his bones he knew there wouldn’t be again.
“Mysterious?” he asked, shaking his head as you cleared away the empty mugs and started wiping down the bar.
“You seem surprised for someone who’s never told me his real name.”
He glanced over to find you staring pointedly at him, chin resting on your hands.
“It’s safer that way,” Tomura grunted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as the thick material of his pants grew tighter the longer your cleavage was on display.
“See what I mean?” you raised your brow and tossed the rag onto the bar.
Tomura rolled his eyes and stood, making his way over to the slowly crackling fire and raising his hands to the flames. Spinner patted his shoulder, giving a familiar squeeze as he followed Twice up the stairs to their rented rooms and Magne drifted out the door, fingers linked with one of the handsome mercenaries that hadn’t been run out by their revelry. Toga was long gone as well, passed out in one of the arm chairs by the fire, Twice’s cloak draped over her shoulders.
“G’night boss,” the call drifted down the stairs and all at once, Tomura was alone in the tavern
Just you and him and the dying embers, reminding the warlock of how cold his bed would be when he finally stumbles into it.
He was so lost in the spiral of awaiting cold sheets, that Tomura almost missed your boots on the stone floors as you came to stand beside him.
“I’d like to amend my answer before,” you mused, apron stripped off and face cast in shadows by the fading, orange light.
“What, think you’ve figured me out already?” he scoffed as unkindly as he could manage, though it fell flat in the newly formed quiet of the tavern.
“Yes.”
The answer came surely from your lips, tilted up at the corners. When he caught your eye again, you were facing him completely. Tomura held his breath as you reached a hand up to tug his dark hood away and leave his face bare to the growing heat of the room.
“Oh really?” he swallowed, a chill running up his spine as he entertained the thought that for once he will not be left alone the night after a mission to scour postings for their next job.
“You look lonely,” your voice was so soft, so unlike the gruff and stony shouts Tomura had grown accustomed to on the road.
“Isn’t everyone?”
If you found his remarks off putting, you didn’t show it—only shook your head and gestured towards the narrow stairs that led to your lodgings.
“Your friends never seem to be,” you said with a small smile.
“They aren’t my friends,” he said without thinking. The lie slipped out too easily, too practiced of a denial to convince the likes of you.
And as much as it frustrated him, Tomura knew he wouldn’t like you as much if you were easily fooled.
“You’re doing a phenomenal job tonight of proving my points, oh so mysterious stranger,” you laughed again, but it was a dryer thing than before—a hint to say you were tired of the dance.
Ready to cast the games aside.
“Lonely, hm?” he hummed and turned away from the flames.
“Mm, you reek of it—lonesomeness,” your eyes shone in the rapidly expanding darkness. “But, I could fix that.”
Tomura would have had to rival Twice in his occasional bouts of obliviousness to not understand what you meant by that. Especially with the way your fingers twisted in the fabric of his cloak and tugged forward.
But for all your stares and touches and biting wit, Tomura felt as though his mind was honey slow, trailing far behind the way your tongue peaked out to wet your lips. He found himself nodding without a thought, letting you pull him behind the bar and through the curtain the lead to stairs of your quarters.
—-
The room was both exactly and nothing at all as he thought it would be. It was a strange dichotomy—the tavern in all it’s rustic, stone floor, ale reeking glory and your rooms with it’s quilting and furs and manuscripts along the walls.
You had existed so singularly in his mind from the waist up, in leathers and aprons with a pitcher on your hip that it was hard to picture you laid up in sleeping clothes on a real bed—with a frame and sheets and not a bedroll on the bare floor—wrapped in quilts with a book on your lap.
Or it would have been quite hard, before he saw you there amongst the plants and the candles and the little window glowing with light from the street lanterns. But he watched you closely in the dim room, pulling him forward as though into a different world altogether, and once he’d witnessed you melt into the scenery, it was like he’d never pictured you elsewhere.
Your hand brushed his cheek before dropping to the fastenings of his cloak and popping the worn, thrice replaced button from its hole. It slipped to the ground around him like the night sky reflected in a vernal pool.
“I’ll admit,” you murmured as your hands slid to his shoulders and waist, drawing him into you with a soft tug. “I had always wondered what it was you were hiding under that all this time.”
Tomura scoffed—a habit of his whenever you were around it seemed—at the idea of you entertaining yourself with thoughts of him in your free time.
“All you hoped and more?” he grumbled, uncomfortably hot in the face as you ducked your head to keep the eye contact he was so desperately trying to break.
“You do that quite a lot, you know,” your voice grew closer to his ear, tongue peaking out to lick the shell of it. “Degrade yourself, I mean.”
You were right, but not in the way you thought. Tomura had garnered quite the reputation for himself amongst the party of misfits he currently led, and it was certainly not one that included humility, self disparaging or otherwise. But he found that all his rightly placed confidence hid its face when under your scrutiny.
If Compress were there, he’d surely launch into some spiel littered with unnecessary dramatics about how Tomura felt unworthy of you and so tore himself down at your feet to salvage his poor, damaged ego.
But Compress was not here, and it wasn’t as though Tomura paid his tangents all that much mind when he was.
“And what about it?” he asked, finally moving his limp hands to cup your jaw a bit rougher than he’d meant to, careful to leave his pinky hovering just over the skin.
Your cheeks squished under his grip and spread as you smirked. “Would you like it if I did the same?”
“What?”
Tomura gasped when your hands trailed up his neck and tangled in the mess of grey blue locks falling around his shoulders.
Your fingers dug against his scalp, nails scratching at the skin as you grabbed a fistfull of the waves and tugged till his neck bent and you could lick a long stripe up the pulsing vein there. When he dared to glance down at you, your eyes were alight in a way he’d never seen. Tomura imagined this must be what his opponents felt as they stared down the proverbial barrel of magic his patron supplied him.
A healthy amount of fear twinged with just the sweetest edge of excitement at the prospect of a well matched battle.
“I said,” you whispered, nipping at the flaking skin of his neck and dragging him forward by the hair, so your thigh was pressed between his, still stood just by the door, “would you like it if I said you weren’t worthy of touching me?”
Tomura let out a shaky breath, too preoccupied coming to terms with the fact that he did indeed, very much enjoy it that he offered no resistance when your impossibly warm thigh pressed gently against the growing bulge in his trousers. He did, however, let out a shameless moan at the relief of it.
“Would you like it if I told you I saw how you looked at me?” you tugged harder at his scalp, leaning forward so that your lips brushed his, only barely with each word. “How I watch you drool over my tits whenever I come to refill your cup?”
The room felt very suffocating in that moment, and your lips dragging against all the cracks on his own as you mumbled delicious cruelty into his mouth was the only thing keeping him from combusting like Dabi during a particularly challenging battle. A second hand was traveling down his chest, tugging at the laces there so his tunic hung open and you could draw tight circles over his hardening nipples.
“Or that I know that you keep coming back to my little hole in the wall here so you can jerk yourself off in the next room over thinking about the way my ass looks bent over a table.”
“That’s—hng, fuck—not why,” Tomura panted, wrenching his head from your grip so he could rest it limply on your shoulder. The fingers in his hair remained though, pulling softly on the roots as your cheek pressed to his temple.
“Well, you certainly aren’t coming for the ale,” you chuckled, pinching and pulling at his chest long enough to have him biting at the crook of your neck to keep the groans at bay before you bothered to give him any sort of relief.
Tomura whimpered, high in the back of his throat like a dog begging for scraps when your deft fingers finally found their way to the laces of his pants and tugged his aching cock free from its confines. Red and weeping, it bobbed heavily against his stomach until you took the length of him in hand and pumped once, slicking him in your palm.
“But then again,” you hummed thoughtfully, as though you were having a casual debate across the bar and not currently stroking his cock in a gloriously tight grip, thumbing over the slit and brushing over the curly hairs at his base. “Maybe you’d prefer it if I was a bit sweeter with you, hm?”
“I’d prefer it if you gave me more,” he grunted, too lost in the clean laundry scent of your clothes and the warmth of your skin under his tongue to care much about the petulance in his tone.
You laughed again and Tomura always loved hearing that sound—the way it echoed in the tavern’s main hall or drowned out any other conversations across the bar—but hearing it now, pressed right up to his ear, had gooseflesh erupting across his arms.
“Greedy boy,” you mumbled but picked up the pace of your hand regardless, moving from a tortuously languid pumping to a rhythmic stroke that had his hips jumping to fuck your hand until he spilled all over your precious fingers. Not that you’d let him though. “Would you care to know that I wait every night, hoping I’ll see you sat at my bar. That I let down my neckline just so you’ll stare when I pour you ale you won’t drink? That I don’t know what was so different about tonight that you finally gave in, but I’m so glad you did?”
“And you waited—ahhh—this long to say something about it?” he groaned as incredulously as he could manage with your hand stopped to cup his balls until he was close to sobbing with your shirt and skin between his teeth at how desperately his needed release.
“You don’t exactly make it easy, stranger.”
Your lips pressed softly to his cheek as you leaned into him and increased the pace of your hand, flicking your wrist over the head and squeezing his shaft so deliciously any logical thought promptly fled the forefront of Tomura’s mind.
In fact, his brain was so hazy, so overcome with the fog of you—you and your fresh scent that smelled nothing like stagnant water and old mud of campsites or the burning sulfur scent of fiendish magic, you with your bright eyes that saw the cost of his power and licked at his broken skin, you that was nothing like the road and danger and scowls wherever he went—that he was filled with the sudden and inescapable urge for you to know him by name and think of him too when the work took him beyond city limits.
“Tomura,” he gasped, turning his head to meet your lips and sliding his tongue behind your teeth. “That’s my name.”
You let out hiss of surprise as he forced his way into your mouth and drank down the taste of alcohol and spit and body heat.
“Tomura?” you mused when he drew away, panting for breath you seemed to steal just with your presence. “Well can you be good just this once then, Tomura?”
“For you?” he grunted and squirmed in your hold, aching to roll his hips up into your slick fist.
“For me.”
Your voice was so smooth, muffled and clear and all around him, dripping down his spine like clover honey. It made his jaw ache with the sweetness of it. No words would have left his lips even if he’d bothered to exert the mental energy to speak.
With a frantic nod, he buried his face in your shoulder again, feeling his knees grow weaker with every swipe of your fingers over his drooling cock. It was only your hand but it felt like heaven was contained within just your bar calloused palm.
“Would you make me feel good too then?” you asked and in that moment any request could have tumbled from your tongue and Tomura would have done so without question.
He’d have the Lords of Waterdeep themselves drawn and quartered if it meant you’d keep touching him like this.
“Yes,” he keened into your sweat slick flesh and shuddered as your free hand trailed down his arm.
You guided his palm slowly through layers of fabric until the flat of his hand was pressed bare against your cunt. And he’d thought just your fingers were glorious before, nothing could have prepared him for the draw of that warm, wet pulsing flesh.
He was embarrassingly quick to surge forward and sink two fingers into your heat, groaning at the feeling of tight walls clamping down around him. With clearly little experience to go on, Tomura prodded and curled his fingers aimlessly until you moaned into his hair and gripped his wrist in the hand not currently working him precariously to the edge of climax, holding him still to grind against his palm.
The series of events that followed were both incredibly blurred amongst the haze of lust and sweat and also some of the clearest memories present in Tomura’s mind.
The feel of your hands and your breasts pressed up under his chin and the smell of you suffocating him became too much to bear. With a cry, his teeth sunk into the meat of your neck and his cock twitched in your grip, balls tightening up until he was spilling over your fist. He felt your hips stuttering in the fog that followed, the tightening of your cunt over his fingers and your grip on his wrist nearly snapping the fragile bones.
What he did not recall was how exactly he’d been maneuvered to your bed in his stupor. When he’d been undressed and his brow wiped gently of sweat, nor when the mess between his legs had been cleared away. Tomura couldn’t quite piece together either, as he drifted in and out, watching you undress yourself in front of the mirror at the end of the room, why he felt such a wrenching in his chest. And why exactly that feeling did not subside until you lowered yourself onto the quilts next to him.
Or indeed, why the feeling of your hands sliding over his skin again to pull him by the hips against you caused such euphoria to erupt in him.
Not that he bothered to think much on it.
His eyelids felt so very heavy in the silence that followed, with his cheeks pillowed on your chest and your fingers tracing slow circles on his back.
Though he would not say that it was the most restful of nights he’d spent—certainly there had been many times on the road Tomura had slept without interruption. He found, however, that waking to the soft peaks of your nipples sliding past his lips or your slicked folds grinding against his length were a perfectly pleasant reason to be woken from his sleep.
Even if he managed only a handful of hours unconscious in your bed, well, you wouldn’t find him complaining.
When he did wake for the last time, to sun filtering in from the little window and one hand in his hair, the other slung across his side—Tomura felt for once, a desire to remain.
To stay where he was, comfortable and with no need for constant vigilance. His party was safely behind the sturdy, brick walls and your breath ghosted over his forehead as you held him close to your chest.
He could feel your eyes on him, flicking around the room before settling back on the matted hair at the base of his head. The thought occurred to him to speak, but even then, his mind refused to supply the proper words. Not that he knew what those would be.
Not that you seemed to care, sensing perhaps his predicament and pulling him closer to quell the circling thoughts. Tomura laid atop you, forehead pressed to your collar, admiring the myriad of bruises he’d sucked into your skin throughout the night.
The two of you lay there together in silence for a bit, letting the sun rise to its highest peak of the morning without uttering a word. He had already spoken all he needed to, the rest was just honey and ale and more nights to come. And for possibly the first time in his memory, Tomura woke with an ache he enjoyed.
just thinking bout delinquent! eren x preppy!reader <3
everyone around town knows how bad and temperamental he can get. he’s got like… 3 robbery charges and 5 assault charges and the list just goes on and on. and then there’s you, the small town princess who everyone absolutely adores. the sweet and happy demeanor you have just pulls at people’s heart making it so easy for people to like you. and because of this eren makes it his personal mission to ruin you. to turn you into his little devil. his mind flashes through so many scenarios of you two and the trouble you’ll both cause. though one stands out to him the most, this one he thinks probably tops the cake. you see your dad is the town sheriff who has arrested eren multiple times so the two of them have quite the relationship. so how would your dad feel when he comes home from a long day of work to see his daughter bouncing up and down on erens dick, letting out strangled moans from trying to take his length. the funny thing is you didn’t even hear the front door opening or the way eren let out a strangled laugh. an-and when eren whispers into your ear “whose pussy is this?” loud enough to where your father can hear, you don’t even think twice before whining “y-you daddy!” and the smug grin on erens face just shows he won. “that’s right, baby. ‘m your daddy.”
okay but Rapper!Eren fucking your insides out in the club's bathroom before a freestyle battle mumbling his lyrics into your ear, pounding into you with the beat's rhythm. And if you try to moan, scream, try making any noises at all? Yeah, he has his slender fingers down your throat, fucking both of your holes.
he wants to fuck you so bad. always eying your tits over a tight top, your butt in those high waisted jeans, your thighs in short tennis skirts. but you're so mean to him and his group of nerd friends. he just wants to kiss your tits not hate your attitude. it doesn't help when you send him a series of pictures in skimpy underwear and make fun of his big dick tent whenever u pass by . just begging to see your body bare.
!!!! loser!eren who finally gets to taste your pussy, on his knees on your cold bedroom floor and tongue lapping hungrily between your folds, moaning and groaning at the sweet sounds you’re letting out. Your skirt is falling over his eyes so he can’t see your face and, honestly, that’s a good thing, otherwise his leaking cock would’ve cum a long time ago. Still, eren gets overwhelmed and forgets the first rule you stated, large hands squeezing your thighs when you roll your hips against his mouth, softly whining his name in a way that gets his dick twitching. You make sure to remind him, however, one foot on his shoulder pushing him back until his body is colliding against the ground. “You can lick, but you can’t touch. Get back to it,” you remark, a pretty, hungry glint in your eyes staring him down. Eren nods eagerly, crawling back between your thighs and sucking on your clit. He can cum in his pants any second now. “Good boy,” you breathe out, which launches him head-first into his high, spilling his seed all over himself. You giggle. “You’re— Ah! You’re fun, Jaeger. I might keep you around.”
Synopsis: Your quiet village life is suddenly upended one foggy morning as forgein ships beach on the wet sand of your Isle. You know they can only be after one thing, your sister, for she is gifted with Sight. Sworn to protect her, you urge her to run and hide while you assess the damage only to find that you are both greatly out matched and out numbered. Will you be willing to fight the Gods to insure your sister's safety or will you accept the hand you were dealt?
Chapter One : July 10th
Chapter Two: July 17th
Chapter Three: July 24th
Chapter Four: July 31st
Chapter Five: August 7th
Chapter Six: August 14th
Chapter Seven: August 21st
Final Chapter: August 28th
Note: If anything is spelled wrong or there are any grammatical errors, do not come for me. This was a fic inspired by a piece of fanart that I wrote in less than 72 hours start to finish. Please just enjoy my labor of love and hyperfixation.
I just want a pissed off, flustered, jealous Tomura to pin me to a wall and seethe in my ear about how much I piss him off while he grinds his raging boner against me.
God, friend, this is such a blessed thought.
You're just minding your own business and the next thing you know his arm is barring your path, his other hand darting out to cage you in when you whirl in surprise. You're back's against the wall and before you can even comprehend what's happening, he's pressing his lithe body against yours and leaning in to hiss in your ear.
"Have you been trying to piss me off?"
If you're lucky, you can maybe squeak out an uncertain "W-what?" before you notice the substantial bulge pressing into your hip, practically throbbing as he ruts into you, his face entirely flushed when he pulls back just enough to look at you.
"What, did you think I wouldn't notice? Hanging all over that burnt asshole when you should be--"
His blush worsening at that almost-admission, his eyes burning with some combination of want and dismay as he cuts himself off. Or cuts off the words at least, because his body is still moving of its own accord, grinding against you while you stand frozen and bewildered. He'll groan when you mumble his name in confusion, his lips pressing close enough to feel against your ear this time when he seethes.
"You think it's any better, saying my name like that? Do you even realize what a fucking tease you are?"
The want--no, need-- would be obvious in his words, nothing but thinly-veiled desperation couched in anger and frustration.
And god, imagine realizing that all that urgency is just for you. Canting your own hips and grinding back against him, relishing the surprised gasp he lets out, and the way his eyes widen when he looks to you again and sees the growing smirk on your face. Imagine the disbelieving look on his face when he shoves you more firmly against the wall, the tip of his nose brushing yours for a long moment before his mouth hesitantly covers yours.
you can’t tell me that Eren doesn’t hold you by the throat as he pounds into you, fingers tight on your jaw and his thumb sinking between your lips, making you suck on it as he mocks how loud you’re being
mmm, just thinking about being fwb with toxic! eren and how possessive he would be :( li-like just imagine you telling him about how a guy/girl had asked you out on a date and you had said yes n’ you were so excited and happy practically jumping up and down too immersed in your own world that you failed to notice the scowl on the brunettes face.
so when you’re finally getting ready for the date, eren insist’s on helping you fix the straps of your flismy little dress telling you friends are supposed to help eachother and some stupid crap and not even five minutes later he has you bent over the couch, roughly thrusting into you from behind as he grunts into your ear,
“ you’re mine. fuck… this pussy, this pretty face, shit– all of it…’s fucking mine.”
“you’ve got some fucking ner-ah! nerve going on a fucking date.”
“they won’t be able to fuck you as good as i can. th-they won’t have you screaming for more o-or make you feel as good, hell no. they can’t do what i can baby.”
and when your date finally arrives, he sends you off with a kiss and a goofy grin as if he didn’t just fuck the living shit out of you.
Step-brother Shigaraki shoving a vibe in (male) reader during a dinner and Shigaraki is controlling the vibrator and then after dinner Shigaraki fucks the life out of Reader
i was gonna work on monster stuff but this is just *chef's kiss*
i think i'm going down the road of a pseudo-incest kink whoops and laughs at myself as i add plot for no reason (also gives you guys a visual reference of the toy in the fic)
pairing: step-brother shigaraki x male reader
content tags/warnings: dub-con, pseudo-incest, mild exhibitionism, choking, sex toys, degradation, mind break
word count: 2.1k
Things around the household have changed drastically since your mother remarried. You love your mother and want her to be happy, but you feel that things have changed far too fast and far too much.
You had been told that your step-father wanted you to move in with him for two reasons. One; you don't have a job since you're attending university full-time and two; his house is pretty close to your university. You've seen his house from the outside and you can't deny the thought of living in such a large house is pleasant. It's a good deal. But if you had been told that your step-father has a shut-in son that lives with him before moving in, you might've reconsidered it.
Shigaraki is rude and has zero social skills. While you don't actually mind people that don't have social skills- it's often times not their fault- there's something about your step-brother that just unnerves you. You see him and alarm bells go off in your mind.
He likes to catch you off guard. Coming into your room to watch you, pinning you to surfaces, groping you, watching you shower- there's something really wrong with him.
"Tomu-"
You're trying to walk downstairs to go eat dinner with your mother and step-father. Trying, being the keyword. Shigaraki has you pinned to the wall once again. One of his hands is able to completely hold both your wrists- he's not even that much bigger than you! He's using his free hand to tug your sweatpants down to your knees. The pinning isn't exactly new, but he's never actually pulled your clothes off.
"I bought something for you. It's a little present for having such a cute brother." His voice makes you shudder, but the item he holds up next to your face makes you tense up. It's a brand new, probably expensive, sex toy.
"Tomura- hey- let's not-" You squirm and shake your head.
"Don't cause a fuss. Just let me do this, 'kay?"
The lube on the toy is your only saving grace as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and tries to put it on you. It doesn't work very well, the lubed up toy sliding against your limp cock a few times before Shigaraki growls lowly.
"I'm taking my hand off and I expect you to stay still." True to his word, the hand on your wrists disappears. If this were the first time he tried to do something like this, then you might've run away. But you've unfortunately learned through experience that your step-brother is far stronger than he seems. It's only because of your knowledge do you stay.
His hand is cold and calloused, an uncomfortable feeling against your skin. You grimace as he grabs your cock to slip the ring over it, making sure it’s snug against the base before he pushes the vibrating part of the toy into you. It doesn’t actually seem that bad until he turns the toy on.
“Shit-” You’re not oblivious to the toy’s function but you didn’t expect it to be so snug against that spot inside you. Shigaraki grabs you before your legs buckle, laughing at your state.
“Wow, you’re that sensitive?” He’s taunting you, making fun of you. “Is my little brother just a slut in disguise?”
Your pants are pulled up and a small slap is given to your ass. It brings a small yelp out of you, making you turn around to glare at him. He doesn’t seemed fazed by it. Instead, it spurs him on and you can feel him grind against your ass. Even through the fabric of both of your sweatpants, you can feel how hot and heavy his cock is. You can tell it’s thick and that’s barely hard.
A sliver of arousal makes itself known with a twitch of your cock. The realization makes you stand up straight and shove your step-brother away, adjusting your clothes to hide the erection beginning to strain underneath your pants.
It’s difficult to sit down at the dinner table and act normal. You give your mother a small smile as you squirm in your seat for a moment. The toy’s low vibration stimulating every part of you- the base of your cock being teased, vibrations going through your balls and taint, the dildo pressing snugly against your prostate- and it’s difficult to hold your composure.
“Are you okay, dear?” Your mother is looking at you with concern.
“O-oh, I’m alright, mom.” You force another smile.
“Go lay down after dinner, okay?”
You give a small nod before you start eating, not waiting for your step-brother to sit down. He’s probably snickering to himself and thinking of what he should do. The sudden increase of vibrations of the toy surprises you and you choke on a piece of food.
“Honey?”
“Don’t worry, he’s just a little out of it, right lil bro?” A large hand comes to rest on your shoulder. As you turn to look over your shoulder, Shigaraki stares down at you with a small smirk. You can see the small remote in his hand and you almost want to reach out and grab it. But that’d cause a scene- the last thing you want at the dinner table.
He slides into his seat, not bothering to eat. All he’s doing is staring at you and analyzing your reactions as he plays with the remote in his pocket.
“Yeah, j-just a little bit out of it.” You try your best to keep yourself together. Eating your dinner as fast as possible is your goal, hoping that this torture is only for the sake of humiliating you in front of your mother.
The vibrations of the toy change rapidly. It seems like Shigaraki’s just cycling through them for the first time, gauging your reactions as he does so. He’s trying to find the best setting for you right now, surely. The one that does you in is the low and slow pulsing of the toy.
He’s learning so much about you. You’re smart enough not to fight him physically but still have the guts to snap at him with your words. You prefer to be teased with a lack of stimulation rather than overstimulation. You won’t tell your mother about anything he does so she’ll stay happy. The best part... You’re easy to read.
Now that it’s been a few minutes of dealing with the toy, you’re settling down. It’s still uncomfortable, the low stimulation keeping your cock hard, but you’re able to eat your dinner for the most part. You’re eating quicker than normal just so this can end.
“Thanks for dinner, mom.” As you stand from the table, Shigaraki cycles through the toy quickly to put the vibrations at its most intense setting. You curl in on yourself and groan, facing contorting.
“Dear?”
You give her a reassuring smile despite the heat pooling in your stomach. As much as you want to leave the table, you’re not sure you can do it yourself. It seems to be part of your step-brother’s plan. He puts his arm under yours, holding you up to help you shuffle back upstairs.
“I’ll make sure he’s alright, don’t worry.”
They can’t see it, but you’re glaring at him as he helps you up. With him being the only reason you’re still standing however, that’s all you can manage to do. You hold onto his torso as he takes you up the stairs and opens the door of your room.
“You’re close, huh? You were about to cum in front of our parents, weren’t you?” Shigaraki throws you onto the floor of your room with a thud, using his foot to turn you onto your back. He stares down at you and steps on your cock, moving it back and forth.
“Alright little bro, cum for me.”
With a particularly large amount of pressure, almost painful, you tense and spurt ropes of cum inside your pants. A stain begins to seep into the fabric and Shigaraki looks down at you with a sneer. You’re squirming under his foot, the toy still vibrating aggressively inside you and around the base of your cock.
He picks you up by the hair and drags you to your bed, manhandling you so your face is against the comforter and your ass is in the air. He doesn’t even bother turning the toy off as he takes it out of you and slides your cock out of the ring. Your ass clenches around the air pathetically, teasing Shigaraki. Even with something inside you, stretching you out, your ass still looks tight and almost untouched. The only thing eluding to its use is the lube smeared around it.
You’re given no warning when your step-brother grabs your hips and slams his cock inside you. When did he take it out? You don’t know.
“Shiiiiiit- Do you know how tight you are?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Shigaraki begins to fuck you with abandon, thrusting into you with no care for your comfort. The stretch of his cock, how it reaches almost too deep inside you- it’s horribly uncomfortable. There’s a tinge of pleasure from the stretch of his cock pressing against your prostate almost constantly, but not much else.
His balls slap against your ass with every heavy thrust and the grip on your hips is bruising. You can feel his nails digging into the skin and you’re sure they’ll leave marks. He’s leaving reminders of this.
A hand leaves your hip to hold your limp cock, pumping it aggressively. The sudden stimulation is painful and you squirm.
“Now, now, little bro. Be a good slut for me and let me play with you.” Shigaraki sneers at the way you stop squirming at his words. “There... See, you’re a pathetic little slut for your big bro, aren’t you?”
You refuse to answer, only burying your face into the sheets to hide your humiliated tears. It’s not like it matters. He continues to pump your cock at a fast pace, enjoying the way your walls twitch and tighten because of it. Even if you’re not feeling anything, he is. Your pleasure is more of an afterthought, a bonus. Then your cock begins to twitch back to life.
“Seriously? You’re feeling good?” Shigaraki leans against you, biting your ear. “Getting off from your step bro treating you like a whore and fucking you? You really must be one if you like this.”
“I’m not!” You protest, turning to look at him. Tears are falling down your face, cheeks red from the embarrassment. “It’s your fault! You’re forcing my body to feel like this!”
Both of you know it’s a lie. You’re definitely enjoying it. As cute as your denial is to your step-brother, he isn’t in the mood for you being like this the whole time. He wants to have to shut you up so your parents won’t hear you begging for his cock.
With a bit of reluctance, he pulls out of you. You’re allowed a brief moment of confusion as he decides how he wants to position you. Once he decides, he flips you onto your back and hikes your legs over his shoulders. In this position, he rubs your cocks together. His is undeniably thicker than yours, but your length isn’t too drastically different. There’s only a few seconds of rutting them together before he lines his cock up with your ass and slams back in.
Much to his surprise and amusement, you let out a confused moan. The new position must feel good. Your face contorting into pleasure with a mix of self-disgust is beautiful to him.
“Little bro, come on. Just let yourself feel good.” His thrusts slow and he reaches for your neck. The grip on your throat is intense and you can feel yourself becoming lightheaded almost instantly. It’s an intense feeling that mixes with pleasure, clouding your senses.
Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen or just you giving up, but you begin to buck your hips against Shigaraki’s. Your jaw goes slack and your mouth is open, eyes rolling back into your head. The choking keeps you from making much noise so all you can let out are strangled groans.
“Finally. Let yourself go. Become my whore, my pathetic cumdump of a little brother. Just be my personal cock sleeve, yeah?”
The words go in one ear and out the other and you let out a string of agreements. Your back arches, cock twitching and covering your stomach in your own cum. It’s the sudden tightness around him that pushes Shigaraki over the edge. He stills inside you as deep as he can and cums, filling your ass. As he comes down from his high, he lets go of your throat.
“Good boy.” He smacks your face gently and chuckles at your lack of response. “Gone already? Come on, we’ve barely started.”
If you wanna piss him off that's the way. You'll have to try to calm him down, make him happy. Hm now how could you do that. Kiss him on his chin, giving light nips. Trail your nails down his spine and he'll arch his back in pleasure, run your tongue over his ears and his hands will knead your soft skin. Now to really sooth the savage beast of Cataraki by getting him to purr in ultimate happiness you need to drop to your knees, open your mouth and let him thrust his cock down your throat. Be good and hum around that thick length till he blesses you with a generous amount of milky white cum. Swallow it all, don't let it leak out cause he will get mad and you'll have to prove to him that you love him all over again, but this time you've got to be submissive which means getting on all fours so he can use your pussy to rut his fat dick into.
he shouldn’t have been doing this. he knows he shouldn’t have been doing this. he had a game in about fifteen minutes that he should be warming up for. but you couldn’t blame the guy – god no. it was your fault, entirely yours. you were a tease… a fucking menace if that.
you knew what you were doing when you sent eren a video of you playing with yourself. you knew. though it wasn’t like he was complaining—not after watching you slowly part your folds as you ran your fingers up and down in-between your lips, gathering your slick.
eren couldn’t help himself as he slid a hand into his shorts palming his hard-on resulting in him letting out a soft hiss.
“god, baby.”
he needed you so bad. he needed to feel his lips on yours. he needed to feel your pussy clench down on him whenever he called you his little slut. he needed to feel your tiny hands run down his chest as he hiked your legs up hitting that special spot over and over. he needed to hear you babble his name as he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you leaving you a crying mess under him.
he needed you. all of you.
quickly fisting his hand up and down his shaft, eren could feel himself growing close to his climax. it had been three weeks since he’s last seen you in-person — three fucking weeks. every night even after his games his mind drifted to you. god, he couldn’t wait to see you again.
eren continued to take glances toward the video of you and every once in awhile he would hear you let out a soft moan and his name and after a few more strokes he finally spilled into his hand.
taking a few deep breaths before regaining his composure and tucking himself away, eren grabbed a tissue from his locker cubby and swiftly wiped away the remaining cum on his hand.
after throwing away the tissue, eren grabbed his phone and sent you a quick text before lacing up his shoes and meeting up with the rest of his teammates.
from: my lil hooper <3
you little minx :(
you think it’s funny to send me shit like that before a game?
Warnings: yandere tendencies, kidnapping, being held against your will, one mention of self harm, etc etc. It is the Hero Killer after all! @stupid-sloot-headcanons has officially Stained me for this man so here!
He's been stalking you for months and months now and you don't even know it!
Has it really almost been a year now? Wow! Time flies when you're spending so much time watching the little object of your affections.
Its going to happen, its going to happen very soon. On the anniversary to be more precise, the day he saw you and fell in love would be the day he finally takes you for himself.
The past year has been so difficult for you, hasn't it? Wouldn't you like to be swept off your feet and be taken away to a paradise by your ronin? Anyone would, you'd be so appreciative wouldn't you?
You'll see one day, when you finally understand.
Now please, stop your crying. He's not going to hurt you, just the opposite. He wants to keep you safe, from everything. The big evil world, to your sad and unfulfilling life, away from your terrible family and the even worse...the heroes.
Don't cry he's doing this for you!
Chizome is patient, too patient. He can wait while you cry, sob and wail your little heart out. When you're done...he can finally make himself known and finally introduce himself to you! Shhh, its all right.
He's been spending the past year creating the perfect place, finding the right spot, escape-proofing it, making it secure and finally filling it to the brim with your favorite things. Your favorite foods, colors, hobbies, everything to keep you entertained, the expect replica and model of your bed so you won't be sleeping on a thin and disgusting mattress.
Any and everything for his Blossom, his Sakura.
Pink is the perfect color, the mix of white from your purity and the red of his passion, your innocence and his bloodlust. The binding color of your love, the color of your divinity. How he loves to see you in and surrounded by pink. The perfect amalgamation.
His beautiful, eternal Cherry Blossom.
Brings you "home" in the middle of the night while you're asleep, crawls through your open window that he left unlatched, puts your favorite items in a bag, holds you bridal style and takes you away into the night.
It hurts him so much to see you cry, to see you so scared and panicked but he understands. He'll sit in the shadows and wait until you tire yourself out and come around to gently run his massive hand through your hair like he's done thousands of times before.
When he's away your screaming is fruitless, there's a reason why he chose an abandoned and scarcely traveled home complex in the middle of nowhere. Even if someone heard you, you have no money and the people around would only help to make bank.
Every way you could harm yourself or use to escape has been removed and a shackle placed on your ankle until he knows he can trust you. The only place you have access to is the bathroom and he's proofed that to the same extent as the rest of the home. Replaced the shower curtain with reinforced glass, glued textured grips to the floor, handles around the sides, there's no way you could get hurt or escape. He's made sure.
...Not without outside help but who would try to kidnap his the love of his life?
Loves to have the place automated, an app on his phone connects to the various security cameras he has, controls the TV and many other things. When he's spying across rooftops and on buildings he'll let you watch the news, cartoons or maybe he'll load up Netflix for you and put a movie on.
Same with the stove and every other appliance, he controls everything, how long the microwave lasts, how hot the burners get and everything in between. Chizome has to make sure, he has to know, until you get settled and he can remove these restrictions one-by-one.
When he comes home? He's brought gifts!
A hair barrette in the shape of a sakura or a pink haori during the colder seasons to keep you warm when he can't!
When he can finally, finally trust you when Stockholm Syndrome sets in and you accept him...he's over the moon, on Cloud Nine. Nothing has or would ever make him happier than that.
You've realized your deific status and now he can truly treat you as much.
His touches are gentle, you'll hardly know he's there, fingertips fluttering across your skin. Afraid that any pressure would bring you harm. He wasn't sure how resilient you are yet, you could bruise as easily as a peach or he could bring the wrath of his grip on you and not leave a mark...but he wasn't about to test that. No markings...at least not yet, one day.
The skilled tongue swipes across your skin tasting your sweet essences while giving you unimaginable pleasure.
He's waited so long for this day and he's going to prolong it as much as he can.
Going and going until you're spent, mind blank, body trembling, covered in sweat and only then will he take you into his arms and let you rest. You deserve so much and making you see stars is only part of the job. He'll let you come down from your pleasure high before he takes you to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Washing your hair, scrubbing the grime away with his sudsy hands and making you climax one last time. To make sure you know how much he loves you.
Being invited into your bed he's going to wrap you up in a mix of pajamas, the blanket and his arms. Curling up behind you like a protective wall, watching you dream with a smile.
Now that he has you unconditionally...he's never letting you go.
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